“I’d rather eat my arm than eat a cold Cornish Pasty. This Osborne toff has really got my chipolata in a twist. If he was in front of me now, I’d punch him on his bulbous arse nose,” Mr Prescott said from one of his Jaguars.

Lord Prezza is even considering petitioning the government on its ridiculous taxation of hot takeaway food with a strongly worded speech in the House of Lords on Friday.

“It’s costing me a bloomin’ fortune. Breakfast consists of half a dozen doner kebabs, a bucket of chilli sauce, fifteen pasties, served with a block of lard and a piece of f*cking lettuce for my five a day. How about elevenses? That’s the whole bottom and top shelf of Greggs stuffed into my mouth. Then it’s onto lunch, I’ll have a few pork pies, Ginsters, deep fried mars bars washed down with a quart jug of Yorkshire deep brown p*ss water. For High Tea, I’ll have about four greasy piping hot gammon steaks washed in a bucket of Tetley, eight boxes of custard creams and shit loads of crumpets. Dinner means more takeaway food with Chinese, Indian and pizzas slopped in a big vat, then liquified, splattered with more Monosodium glutamate, and shat out my arseh*le at 300 mph into my toilet bowl afterwards. It’s costing me a lot of money though, what with all those taxes. Bloody toffee nosed bourgeois ingrates! Oh, hang on a bit. I can claim it all on expenses, never mind.”

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